Waking Vow
Tenneson Woolf
It is just after 6:00 in the morning.
Birds are chirping vibrantly, as they do.
The sky is a matte blue, not yet kissed by the direct rays of sun
asdthat will soon reach over the Wasatch Mountains.
Lawn and garden sprinklers cycle through programmed schedules.
All of it brings a freshness.
A new day, a commitment.
A naturalness, an ongoingness.
asdA reliability.
All things that I’ve struggled to feel over the last many months.
It seems true to me that most of us
seek the aliveness of a new morning,
that calls us into fresh being.
asdThat wakes us to what wants to be lived fully.
That invokes our vow of a next flowering step.
Lovely, Tenneson.
I was awake at 3 or so, finding as I get older, the moment night light shifts to day light I stir. So, I always have my sleep mask under the pillow to slip on and hopefully back to sleep. Not this morning. The smoke from Alberta’s history making province wide outbreak of wildfires roused me. The sun’s rise barely decipherable with our iteration of a matte sky. Still the possibilities of a new day, its vow waking and waiting…albeit with vigilance.
In what became a poetic response to yours…
I love your heart and awareness Katharine — always have. May the fires give way to the many forms of new day.